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by satanmoriarty
Summary: This is not a love story, this is a story about love. Sherlock/OC, post Reichenbach, soul mates AU.
1. Chapter 1

A/n: This chapter will be relatively short, as it will be the chapter which introduces us to the story and gets everything going. Following chapters will be much longer, I promise. Huge thanks to my beta Bo, who has helped me a lot with my grammar errors and such. Enjoy the story!

Love, H xx

**I do not own Sherlock in any way, it is the creation of sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the BBC, I only own my OC's.**

* * *

_"yesterday brought the beginning_  
_tomorrow brings the end_  
_and somewhere in the middle_  
_we became the best of friends."_

I came out of the cab, and as soon as I managed that, my phone rang.

"Hello?" I asked, hurrying towards St. Barts.

"John." It was Sherlock.

"Hey, Sherlock. Are you okay?" I asked. His voice sounded off.

"Turn around and walk back the way you came." he ordered.

" No, I'm coming in." _Where is he? _

"Just- do as I ask!" He said exasperated. Sherlock's voice sounded _wrong_. "Please." _ Awfully wrong_.

I gave up. "Where?" I wanted to know as I walked back from the way I came in from.

"Stop there." He instructed a little timidly.

"Sherlock?"

I don't get what's going on.

"Okay, look up. I'm on the rooftop."

I did as he said, and my heart skipped a few beats. "Oh God." _What is he doing up there?_

"I- I... I can't come down, so we- we'll just have to do it like this."

_What the hell?_ "What's going on?" I asked with a shaky voice.

"An apology." He stated. "It's all true."

"W-what?" I blurted, utterly confused.

"Everything they said about me. It's all true. I invented Moriarty." Sherlock said, glancing behind him.

"Why are you saying this?" I asked confusingly, hoping he'd clear things up a bit.

"I'm a fake."

No, this is not happening. I could not possibly believe that. _Why is he lying?_

"Sherlock..." I tried to stop him, but he cut me off.

"The newspapers were right all along." Sherlock told me, with a rather teary voice. "I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson… and Molly." He took a small pause, and then continued. "In fact, tell anyone who will listen to you. That I created Moriarty for my own purposes." He explained but I wasn't going to believe his story for a second.

"Okay, shut up Sherlock. The first time we met... _the first time we met_, you knew all about my sister, right?" I tried to save the situation, by reminding him, how he impressed me with his deducing.

"Nobody could be that clever." Sherlock argued.

"But you are, Sherlock!" I said that made Sherlock give out a teary laugh.

"I researched you. Before we met, I discovered everything that I could to impress you." He argued. "It's a trick. Just a magic trick." Sherlock said.

_Does he believe that bullshit himself?_

"No." I retorted. I was not going to believe that. "All right, stop it now." I started to walk towards the hospital again.

"No, stay _exactly _where you are." Sherlock ordered me. "Don't move."

"All right." I said nervously. I walked back to my previous spot.

"Keep your eyes fixed on me." Sherlock told me, his arm stretched before him, as if trying to reach my raised hand. "Please, will you do this for me?" He pleaded.

"Do what?" I asked.

"This phone call, it's- um, it's my note." Explained Sherlock. "It's what people do, don't they? They leave a note."

"Leave a note when?"

"Goodbye, John." Sherlock said sadly. He tossed his phone on the rooftop behind him.

"No. Don't..." Was all I managed out. But it didn't help at all.

"SHERLOCK!" I screamed at him, but it was too late. He had already jumped.

"_Sherlock!"_ John shouted, jolting up in his bed. There were tears on his face and the bed was wet from all the sweating. He hadn't had a good night's sleep for months. Bloody nine months since his friend had left him alone.

He didn't have anyone. And that wasn't the first time.

* * *

"It does not good to dwell on dreams and forget to live, John." Harry stated, giving John the coffee she'd made.

"Yeah, thanks Dumbledore." John said, taking the coffee and adding the milk. He was on a small visit to Harry's small cottage in the countryside to relax and try to forget Sherlock.

"No, I mean it John! You need to move on." Harry continued. She wasn't going to give up on her brother.

John sighed and sipped the drink. Harry was right in some way. He had to move on with his life. For the nine months he'd spent on his own, he'd stayed in a small motel, searching for a new flat, this time, only for himself.

"Yeah, okay, I guess you're right." he said, and Harry sent him a smile. She had lost John for nearly two years to Sherlock. Not that they'd been on good terms before that, but they had visited each other at least once in two or three months to catch up and visit their parents. Well, before John went to war.

But now he was here and-

_**Ring Ring.**_

"Oh, I will get the door." Harry said, already on her way. John nodded and continued with his coffee and the news from the telly he'd put on.

"Um, John!" Harry shouted. "There's someone here for you!"

_Who'd be here for _me_?, _John thought, but got up. "Yeah, coming."

Harry passed him and winked "It's a woman" she whispered.

John glanced at his wrist. No, there was still months on his, so it was probably someone else.

"John Watson?" The woman asked once John arrived to the door. She was rather beatuful, John admitted to himself. She wore blue jeans, black boots and a long black coat that reminded John of Sherlock.

"Yes, that is me." John nodded at the woman.

"I need you to come with me." she said matter-of-factly.

John burrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What? Where?" He asked, giving a questioning glance to the lady.

"It does not matter now, but I need you to hurry, we have little time. Go and pack a small bag, take your gun and come outside, I will be waiting for you." She commanded. And with that, she walked away.

John nodded to himself and thought for a bit. That was a completely strange woman, at Harry's doorstep, asking for John Watson. To go somewhere. _Well, it sounds like an adventure, so why not, _he finally thought, and practically ran to pack the bag. Five minutes later John was all packed, gun in the inside pocket of his jacket. He said his goodbyes to Harry, and managed to convince her, that the woman outside wasn't going to be his soul mate by showing his wrist to Harry.

The woman stood outside, next to her golden Lexus Jeep, and opened the backdoor of the car for John to put his stuff there.

He put the things on the seat and went to sit in the front. She was already behind the wheel, taking off her coat and tossing it in the back.

"Um, if you don't mind me asking, what is yo-" John tried to ask, but she cut him off.

"Sorry, but I do mind that, I'd rather not tell you my real name, but you may call me Elizabeth." She said, taking her gloves off and starting the engine.

"Anonymity is a huge deal these days, you know, there's a lot of danger out there," She explained after a few moments, tying her long black hair into a ponytail and fastening her seat belt.

John nodded, understanding her completely. If everyone knew your name, it could be used against you in awful ways. She took off and started to drive away from Harry's home.

"So, if I may, I'd like to call you by some other name from now on, first names are dangerous where we are going." John nodded again, but was confused on one thing.

"_Where _are we going?" he asked.

"We are going to save my soul mate and find yours." She said without another word.

* * *

Please review this story as it would help improve my writing :)


	2. Honesty is the best policy

**I am so very sorry for the long wait, guys!**

**I had some trouble writing and my beta isn't available at the moment, so this chapter is not beta'd. All the mistakes are obviously my own.**

**Love,**

**H**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock in any way. It is the creation of sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the BBC._

* * *

"_Fools," said I, "You do not know –_

_Silence like a cancer grows._

_Hear my words that I might teach you._

_Take my arms that I might reach you."_

* * *

They had been driving for two hours now and John was already falling asleep, the restless night had been exhausting for him. They'd been small talking the whole time, mostly about the trip.

Elizabeth had explained where they were going. They were headed to Scotland, to find her soulmate, and from there to Europe, to find John's potential soulmate. Shortly after that discussion John checked his wrist, only to see that there was still a good two and a half months to go.

A long journey was ahead of them.

After six hours of driving (with occasional gas station and food stops), they finally arrived to Glasgow. Elizabeth parked the car behind the Radisson Blu hotel, grabbed her coat from the back seat and stepped outside. It was one of those rare sunny days you get in autumn. She put on the coat, walked to the back of the car, and opened the trunk. She then got her suitcase and her purse and set them on the sidewalk.

Making sure the things won't fall over, she tapped on the passenger window, waking John from his sleep. He rubbed his eyes and stretched as much as the small space in the car allowed.

Elizabeth opened the car door and John stepped outside, suppressing a yawn. He stretched once again and put his jacket on. He then continued to take his bag from the back seat and threw it on his shoulder.

Elizabeth locked the car doors, took her suitcase and started walking towards the hotel, John right after her.

She got them a two-person room in the hotel and paid for the whole thing, although John argued, that he could pay himself.

"You don't need to pay, John, our whole trip is already paid for." Elizabeth said when they began walking to their room.

John burrowed his eyebrows. "By whom?" he asked.

"By someone, who is very interested of my soul mate's whereabouts." She said, unlocking the door and walking in.

"Oh, OK." John nodded, placing his bag on the floor, and laying on the bed, still a bit sleepy.

Elizabeth unzipped her suitcase and started searching for something. There was complete silence in the room for a while.

Finally Elizabeth found what she had been searching for. A small wooden box. She opened it and revealed a small dagger and a gun. She attached them on her belt, stood up and adjusted her coat, which she still hadn't taken off, so the weapons wouldn't be seen in any way.

"John." she suddenly said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sure you have multiple questions you'd like to know the answers of." She paused for a moment, thinking how to continue. "I'm going to tell you what our plan is and later i will answer three of your questions. Choose the questions carefully. Three, no more, no less."

She looked John straight in the eye to see whether he is accepting her conditions. He gave her a nod and motioned for her to go on.

" We don't have to search for my soulmate from everywhere, but we are going to leave him a trace, a.. a hint, which will help him find us.

In half an hour we'll be going to a bar nearby and we have to find a woman from there, a lady who will leave the hint for us. Also we will be eating dinner there.

It is possible that we have to spend the week here, depends on how fast the trace is found."

Elizabeth walked around the room, arms crossed behind her back and John watching her with intrest.

"As soon as he finds us, we're headed to Europe. There we have to make a few stops in France, Germany and Estonia. From the latter place we will get information for your soulmate. Oh, and how do I know she is the one for you?" she stopped walking and got a piece of paper out of her coat pocket. She glanced at it to make sure it was the right paper, and then tossed it to John, who caught it without effort.

"The Birmingham medium." John read and shook his head in confusion.

"Yes. I asked her six questions, she answered those and added three important facts, that i will definetely need in my life. The first fact she gave me was 'from Europe you will find a soul mate for your companion, who desperately needs one'. At the time I obviously didn't get what she meant by it, but as soon as i found out about you, it cleared up. So naturally i did a bit of research and found a bit more precise locations. It took two months, actually, and that's the reason why i got to you today, not earlier." Elizabeth told him.

"Oh." John nodded, folding the paper together and placing it on the bed next to him.

Elizabeth glanced at the clock on her hand and let out a small sigh, being disappointed in something.

"It's getting late, we have to get moving soon. We have about half an hour for small talk, then we must go."

"Yeah, OK." John agreed.

"So, if you want to, you can ask your three questions."

John bit his lip and burrowed his eyebrows. In a few minutes he raised his head.

"The first question is, who is your soulmate? Of course I'm not expecting a name or something, but a description would be nice."

Elizabeth nodded. "That is a fair question, although i cannot say his name, nor can i describe him. But i will say you this, you will know who he is when you meet him. I'm sorry, but i really can't say it."

"All right, um, the second question would be..." he paused for a minute, then continued."Why did you go to that medium?"

" As it happens, that medium was married to my aunt. Once i was alone with her and all of a sudden her eyes widened and she sat up real straight. Then she recognized me and started to tell random things about my future. Nothing certain, though. Just adjectives, facts and so on.

"I spoke with her for half an hour, until she went back to normal, not remembering anything about the encounter." Elizabeth said.

"And for the third question, why are you even searching for your soul mate?"

Elizabeth smiled.

"He ran away." she said, the smile still lingering on her lips.

"Just like that?"

Elizabeth's smile disappeared. "John, you were only allowed three questions about our trip from me. I will give you the full details when we have found him."

She grabbed her bag from the bed and approached John.

"Are you hungry, mr. Dalton?"

* * *

**This chapter was more of a complementary chapter, without that I couldn't get to the action. Although the next chapter (which I have already finished!) will be as boring as this, the fourth one will get to adventures.**

**We won't be seeing Sherlock soon, that I can say, but a very familiar character will join us in the next chapter.**

**Please review!**

_ps. I am aware, that this chapter is relatively short and boring, but believe me, the fun is about to begin!_


	3. Chapter 3

__So before you head for this chapter, I have to apologize, once again, for the long wait. My computer was broken and i lost three chapters of this story and even more important files, so I had to quickly rewrite it and for that reason this chapter is even shorter than the previous two. But enough of explaining, go read.

**I don't own Sherlock.**

* * *

_"She loved mysteries so much_

_that she became one"_

* * *

They entered the bar, where the only customers were two tired businessmen and a woman sitting under a small window near the door.

Elizabeth headed straight to the woman, greeted her and handed her a blue envelope. She checked the name on the paper, nodded and left without another word.

"Well, that was quick." stated John. He sat down to the spot where the woman had sat at and opened the menu. His stomach had been reminding him to eat at least a hundred times, so John quickly chose a full meal and waved the waitress to come.

Elizabeth chose a small dinner and didn't even finish it, while John practically inhaled his food and topped it with dessert.

"So, what's the plan for tomorrow?" asked John, continuing to drink the last sip of his water and lean back in his chair, feeling better than ever.

"We'll see in the morning, right now it seems we have a day off." she answered, stood up and went to pay for their meals. She used a silver coloured card, and later explained to John that it had enough money to cover their whole trip.

* * *

"So we stay here for how long exactly?"

"A week, maybe a couple of days more."

"OK. And then we go to..?"

"France."

John took a small pause before asking another question.

They were sitting in the hotel cafe and waiting for their coffees to come. Elizabeth had brought her lap top and was now furiously typing something. At one point John found himself jealous of Elizabeths typing skills, but forgot it soon, when he found out that she had studied IT and for some reason spent 7 hours on the internet for two months. She explained it as an 'over-emotional period of my life' because she started watching a TV show called 'supernatural'.

"Basically we have a lot of travelling ahead of us, yeah?" the typing stopped for a second.

"Pretty much yes. We have Europe to explore." the typing continued.

John nodded and glanced behind himself to check whether the coffee is coming or not. The waitress was already walking towards them, expertly balancing the cups and making her way through the tables.

They thanked the young girl and took sips of their coffee, enjoying the taste and the warmness flowing into them.

"So get this, some people think that the queen isn't married to her soul mate. Like, how bizarre would that be." Elizabeth laughed, and showed John the computer screen.

"Well, that would be _royally _bizarre, I'm sure of that." John smirked, making Elizabeth's smile grow even bigger as she nodded along.

"That coffe sure is good, don't you think?" Elizabeth commented, sniffing the pleasant aroma.

"Yes, I haven't had this good coffee in ages, Harry makes very funny coffee, she says it's Indian but it most certainly didn't taste like it." John added, remembering that Clara had given it to Harry, and grinning at the thought of Clara trying to prank Harry in some weird ways.

"Perhaps she just made it wrong, I heard that it is handled differently than our usual coffee."

"Maybe."

They sat in comfortable silence until their coffees were finished and they left to explore the city. John had never been to Scotland and was interested in nearly every statue and building they passed. He took multiple photos and videos of the town and in the evening, when they were back at the hotel, looked at them and smiled to himself.

He hadn't thought of Sherlock for the entire day, and when that hit him, his smile faded a bit. He had tried to forget it for so long and right when he had almost learned to accept that his friend is permanently gone, Elizabeth ran into his life.

He didn't get Elizabeth. She reminded him of Sherlock, but at the same time she seemed like the complete opposite. In John's opinion, they would have made the perfect couple. With Elizabeth being so mysterious, smart and in a way, dark, but at the same time so friendly and outgoing and with Sherlock having the same qualities, except for the latter two, they would have completed each other perfectly.

John's sad expression had triggered Elizabeth's interest and when he snapped out of his dream-like state, he found her staring at him.

"Interesting."she simply said when John sent her a questioning look, and turned back to her lap top, once again typing like her life depended on it.

* * *

They spent the next day in the hotel, John reading books he got from the cafe and Elizabeth, once again, being on her lap top.

The only remarkable event in that day was the woman from the bar bringing Elizabeth a red envelope. Elizabeth read the two paged letter that seemed to upset her and please her at the same time. John only got to know that Elizabeth's soul mate is near, but needs two more days.

John had some messed up feelings for their whole trip. Why would Elizabeth pick _him _to accompany her on the trip. She barely even knew him. But, then again, John knew nothing of her, but still decided to come along.

It was probably the fact that John wanted to get out of the house and _do _something. He was tired of sitting in one spot the whole day when the previous two years had been the complete opposite.

So he decided to enjoy the trip and whatever came along with it.


	4. The return of the hero

**Sherlock ain't mine.**

* * *

_Our actions are the results of our intentions and our intelligence._

* * *

The next two days were spent looking around the town, eating at different coffee shops, walking in parks, and generally enjoying each other's company.

Elizabeth went to a couple of clothing stores and at the same time John explored the souvenire shop. They both left the shop with some bags and happy moods, discussing about how money can't buy happiness, but how it sure can buy _things _that make you happy.

They also visited some bookstores and spent a good hour and a half there, searching for their favourite authors.

For Elizabeth it was J.R.R Tolkien and all of his works. She ended up buying The Hobbit and reading it while John was trying to find an Alexandre Dumas book Harry had suggested him to read. Sadly John didn't find any books by him, and ended up buying a body language book.

Leaving the shop took some time, too, because Elizabeth was so into reading the book, John had to shout her name so loud the bookstore keeper gave him a pissed glare and an intense '_shush_'.

Later on they read their books on the park bench and fed the ducks with some bread and recited some interesting parts of their books to each other .

By the evening of the second day, they both had reached the middle of their books and continued on reading them in the hotel until 2 AM.

* * *

In the morning they almost slept in, and had only 45 minutes to eat. They hurried down to the breakfast hall and ate slowly, enjoying every bite and reading their newspapers. For a moment John got distracted when noticing a curly-haired, tall man, but it turned out to be an employee with no similarities whatsoever to John's once best friend.

John let out a quiet sigh and sipped the orange juice, letting his thoughts wander. He was not sure of his feelings towards his fla- _former _flat mate, he corrected himself. But he sure didn't flinch any more when he saw st. Barts and he didn't get the urge to shout "Sherlock" at every man who reminded him to John.

But he did miss the guy. The years spent with him had been busy and wonderful, the months without him empty and horrible. Thanks to Elizabeth John was back in the game, even if just for now, but still, it was fun and got his mind off every day things.

He glanced at Elizabeth for a moment and all of a sudden billions of questions crossed his mind, and it felt like there were two little Johns arguing in his head.

_Who was she really? Why did she choose _me _to travel with her? OK, yes the soul mate finding, but what if it's a trap?_

_No, no, that would be silly, wouldn't it._

_But what if? _

_Nah, she has had the oppurtunity to kill me or take me hostage many times, perhaps she knew Sherlock?_

_Yes that would be an option, but why did I never meet her then?_

_But Sherlock was so full of secrets anyway, she would just be one of them._

_But what secret is she?_

"John?" the secret suddenly asked.

"Hm?"

"Do you want tea? I'm going to get some so I wondered whether you'd like some or not."

"Um, yeah, sure, why not. Thank you" John smiled and continued reading the newspaper, his trail of thoughts now broken.

ELizabeth left to get the tea and a man sat in her chair as soon as she'd reached the tea kettle.

"Hello, John." The ever-so familiar voice said.

Slowly John raised his head, and there he was - Sherlock Holmes, very much alive.

* * *

John dropped the paper and stared at Sherlock for a moment. Then, completely forgetting where he was, he rose up, circled the table, pulled Sherlock up and punched him as hard as he dared to. He wanted to injure the man enough for him to get what exactly he did wrong.

"John!" Elizabeth exclaimed, and ran to them, dismissing the awaiting tea and focusing on the two men, now staring each other down. John's fists were ready to give another hit and Sherlock was simply rubbing his bleeding lip.

"Sherlock!" she then shouted, "What part of 'come to the park' didn't you understand?"

"I got bored!" he explained, very surprised at both Elizabeth and John's reactions.

"_Bore_-" Elizabeth started, but got cut off by John, who was looking at Sherlock in disbelief.

"Ho-No, why did you to this, you little shit?" He crossed his arms,stepped closer to Sherlock, and looked the guy straight in his eyes, demanding for answers.

"I can, and I most definetely will explain everythi- what? No, everything is all right, don't worry." a man from the table next to them had stood up to get some answers.

"Um, boys, i think it is better if we go to our room. Er, John if this isn't too much to ask from you right now, will you go before us, I wish to speak to him for a moment, thank you."

Usually John would've protested, he would not have agreed to back up, but this situation needed some rational thinking. Even if it was as bizarre as this. So he headed for their room, mumbling curses under his breath.

As soon as John had left their sight, Elizabeth pulled Sherlock to the empty part of the buffet, sat him down, and stared at him, angry as hell.

"He is your friend, Sherlock, you do not give him emotional trauma from seeing a person he thought was _dead _for nine months." She hissed, towering over him.

"Well, I didn't think he'd be that pissed.I cut down the web, saved his life three times _and _I sent him a birthday card." Sherlock spat.

"And you honestly thought he knows about it?"

"He didn't get the card?" Sherlock asked, puzzled.

"No, you burnt it for some reason."

"Oh, that's a shame, I remember writing about these things there. But why isn't he thrilled for us meeting again?"

"Are you seriously that daft when it comes to understanding someone else's emotions? Of course he isn't happy to see you, he thought you were dead for god sakes."

"Yes, this is why he should be happy to see I am actually not dead."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes dramatically and slumped into the seat opposite Sherlock.

"OK, as you are incapable of empathy, just understand the fact that John is angry as hell and you might end up with a broken nose if you don't keep that thickness behind locked doors. Now, I know you have barely eaten for the whole time I was away, so go and eat a bit, I'm going to talk to John."

* * *

"John?" Elizabeth entered the room, looking around to find the man. There was no response.

She looked around and found him sitting on the balcony floor, a bit calmed down but still angry.

"Hey, y-" Elizabeth began, but once again John didn't let her finish.

"Have you know he is alive since the beginning? Is this why you brought me along to this little 'adventure' of yours?" he asked, not looking at her.

"Partly, yes. But on the other hand, I wanted to know more about you and help you find your soul mate." Elizabeth said, sitting on the floor, wisely keeping a small distance between them.

"Speaking about that, Is _he _your soul mate?" He said 'he' as it was poison on his tongue, but the rest of the sentence expressed pure curiosity. He was even looking at her now.

"Yes." Elizabeth pulled her sleeve up and showed John the beautifully written initials of Sherlock that were exactly on the spot where John's wrist still showed the time he had to wait.

He gave a glance to his wrist, just to check, and noticed something odd.

"Er, Elizabeth?" He said with a shivering voice.

"What is it?"

* * *

And a bit of a cliffhanger here.

Here's a thing about Sherlock in this fic. He spent the time, when he was tracking down moriarty's web, alone and it has changed him a lot. It was only nine months (not 2 years like canon says), but he is not so cold and distant anymore. Yes, he is still the sociopath he was, but he is a sociopath who has been through a lot of things. So he will not be like the Sherlock we are used to see.

This chapter is unbeta'd as I was too eager to post it, so all the mistakes are mine.


	5. How dare you

_As promised, the adventures are starting._

**_I still do not own Sherlock._**

* * *

"_It's a lot easier to be angry at someone _

_than it is to tell them you're hurt."_

* * *

"What is it, John?"

"My time has lowered to-" he glanced at his wrist once again, "two days and four hours." John looked up at Elizabeth, his whole body expressing fear.

He hadn't been expecting it so soon. He thought he'd have the entire month to prepare but now, now it was a mere two days. Two days until he met his soul mate.

"What do I do now?" He asked, hoping Elizabeth would know how to help him.

Unfortunately, she didn't.

"I have no idea. I mean, look at me, I ended up with _him _of all people. Does it seem like we had a _normal _meeting?" Elizabeth snorted, indicating that it had been everything else than normal.

"When did you meet exactly?"

"Three years ago, why?"

"It's just that, I've never seen his wrist closely, he usually covered it up with a bandage, saying he'd done some kind of weird experiment on his clock. But now it just makes sense you know. For some reason he didn't want me to know about you." John told. He had tried to get Sherlock to tell him about his clock but Sherlock never answered.

"Oh, yes, I asked him to do it. I didn't want him to tell everyone about me. You know, the anonymity thing. And before you ask, yes, he knows my real name. He guessed it after having my initials permanently on his wrist. It did take him six months to guess it, but eventually he did. Oh, the fight we had that day was horrible."

John burrowed his eyebrows in concern. "You fight a lot then?"

"It is Sherlock Holmes we are talking about, of course we do. With me being me and he being him, we have ended up nearly killing each other about four times."

John's eyes widened in surprise.

"_Four times?_ Why would you fight so much you nearly _killed _the other?"

"Well, once I ruined his experiment and in revenge he chased me around London until I jumped into a lake and stayed there for two minutes, then he got enough and swam after me because I was so arrogant i nearly drowned myself in there." she let out a small giggle, but stopped when she noticed someone down on the streets.

When John looked at the same spot she was glaring at, he didn't notice anyone familiar, just two men sitting in front of a house, smoking and talking. One of them wore sunglasses and a black coat, his hair was black, almost the same tone as Elizabeths and his skin tone was nearly paper white.

The other seemed the complete opposite. His hair was dirty blonde and his skin was perfectly tan. He was wearing a leather jacket and black leather pants. It seemed logical he was the one who owned the motorcycle parked near the house.

The men grew no suspicions in John, but they seemed to annoy Elizabeth, who got up and threw her jacket on. She left the room with a dead serious face, ignoring John calling her name.

...

She bumped into Sherlock in the hallway, and wanted to hurry past him, but he wasn't thinking the same. He grabbed Elizabeth's wrist slightly and pulled her near to him.

"Where are you going?" he insisted, his voice low, to not attract the attention of the hotel residents.

"I saw someone I need to slap, mind letting me go?" she said quickly.

"Is it him _again_?" he sighed.

Elizabeth nodded and Sherlock let go of her wrist. She patted his shoulder slightly, tucked her hands in the coat pockets and left.

But before she managed to get to the stairs, she remembered something. She got out her phone and texted Sherlock.

_John knows me as Elizabeth, do not, under any circumstance reveal my true name to him. He doesn't need any more shocking events today._

_BM._

She then hurried down the stairs, ran into the streets, but before approaching the two men, she got out her phone once again.

_Oh, and be gentle with him, will you._

_BM._

Fifteen seconds after she'd sent the text, her phone beeped, showing that Sherlock had replied.

_Calm down, I can handle this._

_SH._

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, _yeah sure you can_. While walking out to the two men, she wondered whether she should visit the pharmacy in case Sherlock decided to be extra arrogant.

"John?" Sherlock called out, not expecting to hear an answer. Which he didn't recieve anyway.

He closed the door behind him, threw his coat on a chair and walked to the small sitting room, finding John on the couch, eyes closed and lips pursed.

"Oh, that is just childish. You're not talking to me?" He sat down just opposite John and glared at him.

"What is it with you two anyway?" John asked after Sherlock had returned to his seat.

"Well, obviously we're soul mates, so it means we..."

"Yes, i bloody know what that means, what I meant was what kind of relationship do you have. I clearly remember you saying that you don't have a girlfriend, but apparently you had one at the time, and still do." John said with a quiet voice.

His head was aching from all the information he'd gotten that day and he was trying to get it over with by asking everything he wanted to know.

"She is not my _girlfriend_" Sherlock sighed," She is my wife."

"Wait, you're married, too?"

"It was not a marriage of love, it was a marriage organized by our parents. We are both from a wealthy family with old traditions, and to keep Elizabeth's inheritance, we needed to get it done. We are not in love, John, love is pointless and time consuming. We are merely partners in business." Sherlock said, understanding that the more he said, the more John's anger would dissolve.

"Business? So she solves crimes with you?"

"Well, it's a tricky thing with her. I cannot tell you the full details, because if I did, she'd murder me in the most dreadful way possible. I'm sure that when she fully starts trusting you, she will tell you. But yes, she does work with me."

There was a rather long pause between the ask-and-answer game. John shut his eyes and tried to sort everything out, Sherlock on the other hand threw his long legs over the edge of the armchair and relaxed, as much as his always working brain let him, breathing slowly.

"Will you tell me how did you do it? The suicide, I mean." John asked after 15 minutes of total silence.

"No. Only Mycroft and Molly know about it, and as much as I trust you, I can't tell you. Not until I'm not sure whether Moriarty's web is completely cut down." Sherlock said, sitting back to a normal position.

"How on earth can Molly know about it?" John asked, narrowing his eyes.

"She was the one who helped me do it. Once again, I cannot reveal the details, but she was very helpful." Sherlock yawned quite loudly, getting John's attention and after noting Sherlock's red eyes and slightly slumped posture, he got up and dragged Sherlock to the bedroom where he gave the man a strict order to sleep.

"What for?" was Sherlock's answer to John's nudging and pushing.

"Look at yourself, you idiot. It's clear you haven't slept for ages, and it's not good for you. So get to bed before i sedate you."

Sherlock sighed, and threw his jacket off, and before he managed to get his trousers off, John had already left the room, saying he'd be back in an hour.

Sherlock yawned once again, laid himself on Elizabeth's bed, and fell asleep almost immediately.

Meanwhile Elizabeth had approached the two men and was fiercely arguing with one of them. She was yelling quite loudly, while the black-haired man tried to shush her. The other man was simply sitting there, smoking his cigarette, completely ignoring the other two.

Elizabeth was screaming something about betrayal and lying, featuring spicy swearing and wide gesturing with her hands.

To the smoking man, the fight was no surprise, he'd seen them fighting before, and this was just a small bit of the arguing they usually did.

The man fighting with Elizabeth had crossed his arms, and was now repeatedly rolling his eyes, only achieving more of the screaming because of it.

"Look, I had no idea about it, OK? He told about it to me, I don't know why she didn't trust you with it, but inculded me to his little secrets club." The man finally said, cutting into Elizabeths ranting.

"He was our brother, I expected him to tell us both about something this important." Elizabeth muttered, suddenly feeling so sad. She sat down on the bench next to the blonde man and grabbed his cigarette. She ignored his protests as he'd ignored their fighting before and finished the cigarette, staring before her, eyes blank.

"OK, Daniel, what should we do now?" Elizabeth asked after being stared at for five minutes by both men.

"We're going to pay a little visit to paps." Daniel answered, helping her up and linking hands with her.

* * *

This chapter didn't come out as i wanted it to, but it's good enough to start the bigger story.

Keep waiting my brave readers, _adventure is out there!_


	6. What the fuck (insert accurate name) ?

So I have finally gotten the time to upload the sixth chapter!

And I'd like to mention that I loveyour reviews, likes and follows, they're a _huge_ boost for the writing, thank you so much everyone!

**Also I don't own Sherlock. Not yet.**

* * *

_Do not strive to make your presence noticed,_

_ make your absence felt_

* * *

As soon as John had closed the hotel room door behind him, he heard quiet snoring which let him know that Sherlock had already fallen asleep. John let out a small smile, Sherlock was still stuck in his heart, no matter how much of a dickhead he was.

He walked outside and had a look around, enjoying one of the rare days of sunshine in autumn. He decided to go for a walk and get his thoughts cleared up, so he walked to a map of Glasgow that hung on a wall nearby. Soon he located a small park near the hotel and started walking there, whistling a familiar tune.

The park was lovely. It had a lot of trees, a couple of ponds and little brown benches. John sat down to one of the benches and observed the people walking around.

There were old men playing chess and young women walking around with their kids. There were a lot of couples, young and old. Some people were reading, some were listening to music, some were just sitting and enjoying the pleasant Sunday afternoon.

With a corner of his eye, John spotted a bunch of youngsters laughing and talking, most of them having a heavy scottish accent. John smiled to himself, remembering how he and Harry used to try speaking in different accents. Harry's Scottish accent was below average, but her French accent was convincing. John could only manage the Russian accent and the Irish accent.

But then Sherlock crossed his mind. John's feelings towards that man were totally messed up. He was ready to forgive, but...

Yeah, it's always the _but_. But this and but that. And what was it this time? But he was such an arrogant little shit? But he doesn't deserve it? But he... and so on.

Maybe John needed to know more about the whole thing, maybe he needed to vent to someone.

But where was his someone?

* * *

"Where is he now?" Elizabeth asked, getting into her car, Daniel doing the same on the other side.

"A couple of miles west of Glasgow. Do you have a GPS?" Daniel added while buckling up.

"Yes, it's on the back seat. It might be broken, though, the voice was annoying me." she said, putting on her sunglasses and turning on the radio.

"Not so different from our dear brother after all." Daniel smirked, "yup, it's broken." he had found the GPS that was only a wreck now. The screen was cracked and some of the buttons missing.

"Whatever then, I will guide you there myself. Turn left there!" Daniel ordered, pointing to the direction with his finger.

Elizabeth took a sharp turn, making Daniel freak out.

"I have told you so many times that you shouldn't do your daredevil shit when im in three foot radius from you." he hissed, holding onto his seat so hard, that his fingers turned white.

"Relax, I can handle simple car driving. Where do I turn now?"

Fifteen minutes later they arrived at a small lakehouse. The house was quite big and three cars were parked in front of it.

"I thought paps only had one car?" Elizabeth wondered, walking up the stairs that led to the front door.

"Well then, it looks like he's made some friends, doesn't it." Daniel replied and knocked on the door.

"Don't make me laugh, the only place he'd make friends at would be the metal asylum. Even there it'd be difficult."

Suddenly they heard muffled creaking of the floor and then a voice announced: "Say your name and what do you want with me."

"Paps let us in." Daniel shouted, annoyed of the man's greeting habits.

"Not before you say yo-" the voice started again.

"For fuck sake i'm going to blow up the door if you won't let us in." Elizabeth yelled, taking out her gun and holding it so that the small camera, that was well hidden behind a fake spider web, saw it.

"No need for swearing, young lady." Their father opened the door, showing himself in his full glory. He was dressed in a suit and was supporting himself on his fancy-event cane.

"Well, apparently if i want to get in, there is a need for it." Elizabeth muttered, walking in, Daniel right behind her.

* * *

_Where am I?_

_Why am I in a bed?_

_And most importantly, why is there a bird on the windowsill? I clearly remember putting poison on it._

_Wait._

_This is not home._

Sherlock sat up and looked around, the picture clicking together now. He didn't see John anywhere so he presumed John was still out.

_Probably in a park, feeding ducks._

He found his clothes and put them on, still a bit dizzy from the nap.

_What time is it, anyway? I need to know the time._

Sherlock went to his coat and went through his pockets. There was only a string, rat poison and some money in the first pocket, so he searched the second. There was a broken watch, extra coat buttons, flower petals and a Swiss Army Knife.

Not being satisfied with what he found there, he carried on to the inside pockets. One pocket consisted of a small jar of ink, a comb and his phone. He didn't see his functioning watch there, but the phone would do for now.

It was 6 PM already, meaning that he'd slept for four and a half hours. It was good, he hadn't slept until morning, so he'd still have time to update himself on current news in criminal activity.

But he was in Scotland. What could he do in Scotland.

After a minute of getting through all the possible ways, Sherlock threw on his coat and went to the reception hall.

He found some local newspapers and some other newspapers he thought would be useful and sat himself down in the breakfast hall, that now served dinner.

Then he spent about half an hour flipping through all the criminal columns and remembering the interesting ones.

He'd been spending so much time on Moriarty's huge case, he'd forgotten about the small criminals and the amusement their little puzzles gave him.

_..._

After an hour and a half of sitting in the park and thinking about things, John got up and started walking back to the hotel.

He was already halfway there, when he noticed someone familiar. A woman to be exact. So he walked closer, identifying the person as the lovely Molly Hooper.

Molly was standing outside a menswear store, it seemed as she was waiting for someone.

John thought about going to Molly for a second, but when he noted Lestrade walking out of the store, and giving Molly a peck on the cheek, he decided against it. He didn't want to get in the middle of someone's personal life, so he carried on walking to the hotel.

But once again he noticed something. This time it was a small wanted poster on a wall, saying this:

* * *

**Benedicta Moriarty**

**Wanted for robbery, murder of five men, attacking the police.**

**If you have any kind of information about the woman, contact the police* immediately.**

**Reward: £300 **

***dial 999 or visit a police station**

* * *

And under the text there was a drawn photo of this Benedicta.

She shared an awful lot of similarities with Elizabeth in John's opinion, but he wasn't entirely sure, it was a drawing after all. And the 'Moriarty' behind her name was just what John didn't need.

After having a bazillion thoughts run trough his head, he walked to the wall and ripped the paper off. Then he folded it so it fit in his pocket and walked to a cafe nearby, making sure the cafe had free wifi. He had just gotten another reason to postpone going back to Sherlock.

* * *

"Look, I have two very important men sitting in the living room, waiting for me to return. So make it quick, and understand, that I do not know anything about her." George replied, eyes narrowed.

"Yes, you do know, paps, don't try lying to me, I'm sure you remember well how the last time ended." Elizabeth sighed.

They were in the sitting room, everyone sat in an armchair. Their father was in the middle chair and the siblings in the chairs facing each other.

Elizabeth was sitting on the edge of one armchair, having earned multiple displeased looks from her father for it. Daniel, on the other hand, was nearly falling asleep on the chair, disinterested in the whole conversation.

"All right, she is out of the country, I have no idea where, but she told me she'd return in a month or so. You know how secretitive she is. No wonder where you got the genes." George finally said, leaning towards Elizabeth and supporting his elbows on his knees.

Elizabeth stared at the man, looking for possible movements that could show her he was lying, but failed to find one.

"All right, what is she doing there?" She asked, looking her father in the eye.

"She is gathering information about your brother, I'm sure you know why." George leaned back in the chair and shut his eyes, letting Elizabeth know this conversation is over.

"Yes, unfortunately I do." Elizabeth muttered.

"Well, I have an appointment in half an hour, so, if you don't mind, I'd like to go." Daniel stood up and gave Elizabeth his hand.

Elizabeth accepted it and allowed Daniel to help her up.

"Goodbye father." Elizabeth said, not looking at the old man. She had never really liked him, that's why she'd been calling him by his first name ever since she was thirteen.

She didn't wait for him to respond and followed Daniel out of the front door.

* * *

OK, so they mysteries are starting to reveal themselves!

Also I'd like to announce that I've finally decided Elizabeth's future and i created a bit of a backstory for her. It should be in one of the chapters coming up!


	7. Oh, the secrets, Oh, the revelations

**Well, I managed to write this one quite quickly, don't you think?**

**Also, no, I still don't own Sherlock.**

* * *

_"We play the part of heroes because we're cowards, the part of saints because we're wicked:_

_ we play the killer's role because we're dying to murder our fellow man: _

_we play at being because we're liars from the moment we're born."_

_—Jean-Paul Sarte_

* * *

"I need to be there in fifteen minutes, hurry up!" Daniel shouted to Elizabeth, who was standing on a field, trying to locate the e-reader she'd thrown out of the window in a fit of rage.

"I think your meeting can wait, you're the head of the thing anyway. You can postpone it for like half an hour or something." Elizabeth yelled in response, trying to shield her eyes from her sunshine with her free hand, while the other was busy holding the phone and texting.

"I might lose my job because of you, I already have two warnings because you messed with the security system!" Daniel jogged to Elizabeth and stood right next to her with crossed arms.

"Why do you care about your job so much? Ever since you went to college you've been like, oh, i need good grades, i need a good job, i need a good home and a nice family. What does it even matter?" Elizabeth turned to Daniel and looked him straight in the eye.

"Because I want to have a stabile life, not a life where I'm not even sure whether I'll have a safe place to sleep at night or enough money to get myself food." Daniel explained, trying hard to not roll his eyes at Elizabeth's question.

"But it's so boring. I mean I can survive without a job, without a house and without a family." she started walking back to the car, a bit pissed because she hadn't found the e-reader.

"Well it's good for you to say. After all you inherited all of grandfathers money, you have a good chance of inheriting the country house _and _the lake house. Plus, you have found your soul mate, so technically, you have a family." Daniel followed Elizabeth, trying to keep up with her quick steps.

She stopped suddenly and made Daniel nearly bump into her.

"Are you fucking joking, Dan? Sherlock is not _family, _he is barely enough to fill the place of a soul mate, and you know that. And the money doesn't mean anything, I'd give at least half of it to you, if you would take it." She carried on walking and sat in the car, waiting for Daniel to join her.

"I'm not taking _your _money, I want to earn it on my own." he muttered, and closed the door.

Elizabeth took off and made it back to town in five minutes, drove Daniel to his office, leaving him with two minutes to get ready for the meeting, and returned to the hotel.

She made it there just seconds before John did, so they ended up together in the elevator.

"What's that? The paper in your hand, i mean?" Elizabeth asked, pointing to the poster John was holding.

"Oh, this? Nothing important, really." John shrugged and put the paper in his pocket.

He'd been using the cafe's computer for an hour, to find out more about Benedicta Moriarty. And as he expected it to turn out, she's the infamous sister of the one and only James Moriarty. John didn't find out much more, as most of the information was classified, but he did get enough to suspect Elizabeth.

He did like her, so it made his little investigation a bit harder, but he had decided to find out who Sherlock's soul mate really was.

He did consider the fact that Sherlock already knew, and strongly believed that he did, but he was certain that they'd never tell him.

* * *

"Sherlock?" Elizabeth shouted as soon as she'd entered their room. She didn't get a response.

"SHERLOCK!" She yelled, louder this time.

"WHAT?"

"Nothing, what are you do-" She was cut off mid-sentence, when she saw that Sherlock was hanging on a rope attached to the ceiling. "What the _fuck _are you doing?"

"Experimenting." Was the curt response.

"Get down. We're leaving this hotel today." Elizabeth ordered, already throwing her things into the bags.

"No, I need to know how long wil-" This time he was, quite literally, cut off by Elizabeth, who took out a knife and threw it trough the rope, causing Sherlock to fall down.

But he was already prepared for Elizabeth's turn and fell quite gracefully on his feet.

"Oh, stop being such a show-off, go on, you have one hour to take all of your stuff from your locker in the train station." Elizabeth said, glancing at her watch tossing Sherlock his coat.

John had just been staring at the two and their nagging until Elizabeth brushed past him to get her knife, getting John to snap out of his little trance.

"Fuck, it left a mark on the wall." She muttered, mostly to herself, and tried to cover up the hole.

John shook his head and after consulting Elizabeth about the fact that they are indeed leaving, went to pack his bag.

"It was a good throw you did." He commented after getting all of his things into the bag.

"Thanks, I did spend a lot of time practising knife-throwing when i was younger." Elizabeth smiled.

"And by good, I mean _good _good. In all my time of being in military, I haven't seen such a clean throw. Most people cannot achieve such skill by themselves." John continued.

"What are you saying, John? Are you blaming me for something?" Elizabeth stopped her packing, stood straight up and looked at him with disbelief.

"Nothing, nothing. I'm just impressed." John shook his head and went to take his coat from the sitting room.

"Stop right there, John." Elizabeth said, voice quiet, but very intense.

John halted and stood right in the doorway between the bedroom and the sitting room, back to Elizabeth.

"Do you have any ide-" She started, but shut up for a moment.

"No, you probably don't. Look, John, I have been through a lot of shit in my life, and as exciting and adventurous as my whole 'let's-stay-anonymous' project might sound, it's really to keep myself alive." She sat down on the floor, supporting her back against the bed, and waited until John had retrieved the coat and sat down against his bed, looking at Elizabeth.

"I'm going to trust you with a big secret now, John, and I expect that you are trustworthy enough to not tell anyone. _Anyone_. Not your soul mate, not your future grandson. Everyone who knows, is in danger." She started, speaking quickly and shutting her eyes. She took a deep breath before speaking, and told John her whole story.

She'd been cautious before, though. All the windows were shut and the door and walls were sound-proof. She'd chosen this room for a reason; she had predicted she might have to tell John everything at one point, so it was better to do it without a third party member listening to them.

"But i would like it if you continued to call me Elizabeth, if you don't mind." she finished after talking for thirty minutes.

Before John could answer, the door burst open and Sherlock ran in.

"Quick, get your things, we must go to the airport." He cried, panting heavily and supporting himself on the wall.

"When is the flight?" Elizabeth asked, running around the room, getting the last things.

"In forty-five minutes." Was the quick response.

"Go before us John, I need to talk to him for a second." Elizabeth whispered to John, patted him on the shoulder and went to the still panting Sherlock.

"Did you get all of your things?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"Yes, i put them in the car about seven minutes ago." He muttered, taking out his phone and checking the time.

"Great, I talked to George today, he said Mother is already in Europe." Elizabeth mentioned, walking out of the room, Sherlock not missing the beat and walking right next to her.

"I'm going to return the keys and then I'll come to the car. Also, I will drive, you'd probably kill us with your speeding." she said when they reached the elevator.

"Look who's talking. You got us in the bloody hospital with _your _speeding six months ago." Sherlock snapped, pushing the right button and waiting for the doors to close.

"HOLD THE ELEVATOR!" Someone yelled, but the doors were already so close together, it was impossible to open them again.

"SORRY, MATE!" Elizabeth shouted in response, demonstrating her excellent Australian accent. She was sure she heard a distant 'fuck you', though.

"Ah, we made it, I'm going to the car then." Sherlock slipped himself through the crack between the opening elevator doors and ran out.

Elizabeth calmly returned the room keys and after smiling to the girl in the reception, walked out, calm as ever, only to find Sherlock already in the driver seat.

"Get in, the flight is in ten minutes!" He shouted, starting the engine with the keys he'd pickpocketed from Elizabeth when they had been riding down with the elevator.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell her, George?" a quiet voice from somewhere in the darkness asked.

"She does not need to know, James, not _yet_." George hissed, standing up, putting on his dressing gown and turning on the floor lamp, finding the room to be empty.

"Not again, I will not fall for your little tricks. You fooled me once,James, but it will _not _happen again." George said aloud, sat on the edge of his bed and looked around the shadowy room.

Suddenly he noted movement under the window, where the light didn't reach, and the shadows covered the floor.

"Hello, father." said James Moriarty, stepped into the light, and gave his father a wide, mischievous grin.

* * *

**Well, well, well, look who's back in the game!**

**I think that some of you, dear readers, have already figured out who Elizabeth is. But trust me when I say, your assumption is most likely wrong. She is unpredictable, weird and above all, mysterious.**

**I must admit, she is so mysterious, even I don't know her full story.**


	8. Enjoy the free night, John

**Well, this update came out quickly. But I love writing it and I want you to be able to discover what else will happen during the story.**

**Sherlock ain't mine.**

* * *

_my fingertips are holding onto the cracks in our foundation_

_and i know that i should let go but i can't_

_and every time we fight i know it's not right_

_every time that you're upset and i smile_

_i know i should forget but i can't_

* * *

"James, you know you're not supposed to be here, right?" Daniel sighed, glaring at Jim.

"Of course I do, but do you have any idea, _dear brother_, how _boring _it gets in hiding?" Jim said, rolling his eyes and eating another raisin.

"You are supposed to be dead, we cannot possibly house you." George noted, "You either leave or get found by one of _his _people."

"Dad, his people are mostly homeless or working for the Scotland Yard. What on earth could they _possibly _do with _me_?" Jim ate another raisin and sat up straight. "I could kidnap, torture and _kill _all of them if i only wanted to." He spat and took the raisin bowl into his hands.

"Oh, don't start with these foul things again. You can do them without letting me know of all that rubbish." George spat, getting up and taking the raisin bowl from Jim.

"I agree with paps on this one, Jim, we cannot risk anyone finding this house, nor them finding you." Daniel approached George to get some raisins, but George was already so pissed, he pulled it away from Daniel and put it on the little cupboard.

"Where do you two think I'm supposed to go, then?" Jim asked, brows furrowed.

George and Daniel exchanged knowing looks.

"Benedicta."

* * *

"I AM SO NOT TOUCHING THAT" Elizabeth yelled, raising her hands up and staring at Sherlock in horror.

"Oh, calm down, it's just a frog." Sherlock muttered, carrying on dissecting it.

"Just a frog?" She hissed, "Look at it, it probably carries like four different diseases with it. I am not helping you. I don't care how many steroids the kids injected into it, I'm not going to touch that _thing_." She took off the rubber gloves and tossed them away.

They'd arrived to France only this morning, and had barely settled in the hotel, when Sherlock pulled out a little plastic box, put it on a table in the corner of the room and started to prepare for the dissecting. John had left as soon as he'd heard that the dissecting requires two, and was still gone, exploring the small French town called Dijon. He'd promised to be back in a couple of hours.

"What is wrong?" Sherlock sighed, standing up straight and looking Elizabeth in the eye.

"Nothing." She said, laid herself on the sofa and turned on the telly. She spent a couple of minutes in silence, clicking between different channels. She finally ended up on TLC, which was currently showing a show called 'Toddlers and Tiaras'. She watched three episodes of it, until, out of nowhere, Sherlock sat next to her.

"I know you're not OK. I've seen enough of John's girlfriends to notice when a woman is not all right." he started, sitting straight and tapping his fingers on the knees. His eyes were constantly flickering between Elizabeth and the telly, wishing she'd turn that nonsense off.

Elizabeth rolled herself on the backside and just looked at Sherlock, making him feel weird. He'd never seen her like this - overemotional and judging. It was not the usal her.

"Sherlock." she said after she'd gotten enough of looking at him. "You can be so bloody daft sometimes. But then again, I guess I kind of like that. So let's get two things clear." Sherlock quickly took the remote when she was not paying attention to it, and turned the telly off.

"OK, I'm listening."

"First of all, we have been married for like, what, three years? And not once have you taken me out to dinner. You haven't even properly talked to me since our 'honeymoon'. And even that was a cover to help you with a case." She laughed, but her eyes were blank and the laugh plain and empty.

"I have been helping you for years. I have tolerated your insults and our fights. I admit, I haven't been the brightest star in relationships either, but don't you think that nearly killing each other isn't supposed to be a part of a relationship? We're fucking soul mates and the only romantic thing we've ever done is the wedding. _Three bloody years ago_." she hissed and decided she'd talked enough, so she turned her back to Sherlock and laid quiet, facing the soft pillows of the sofa.

"I, um..." Sherlock started, but didn't know what to say. He sat still for a moment, rummaging through the mind palace, trying to find the room labeled 'wife'. Eventually he found it, but inside there were only facts about her and some things that were useful when she was on her period. Nothing that could help with the current situation.

"Give me four hours and the silver card." He finally said, already forming a plan in his mind.

* * *

John was exploring the main street of Dijon, visiting the souvenir shops, bookstores and bakeries. He found himself particularly fond of croissants that included strawberry jam and chocolate, so he'd bought five of these and was now enjoying the foreign taste. He was anxious, though, because his wrist told him that there was only a day left until he was supposed to meet his soul mate.

Occasionally he forgot about it, for instance when he discovered the cozy tea shop and lost himself between the shelves of cupcake tea, or when he stepped into the music store that owned all kinds of music he loved.

He spent four hours in the town, and returned to the hotel only because it started to get dark out and all the stores were closing. He was carrying two big bags that consisted of french poetry, music and a huge amount of baked goods. When he made it to the room, he discovered that Elizabeth and Sherlock were gone, having left him a small note, which declared that they were out and that the hotel telly has TLC on it. It also featured a post scriptum:

_P.S. John, we will be out until 2 AM, do not wait for us. Also, 'the Next Great Baker' is on TLC at 9:30 PM._

_SH_

John smiled and laid the food on the coffee table before the sofa. He then took off his jacket and shoes and turned on the telly, watching the end of the 'Long Island Medium' and then enjoying the baking shows.

* * *

After Elizabeth had thrown the card to Sherlock, he disappeared for three hours, only returning once, giving Elizabeth a huge box that had a red coctail dress and a pair of heels in it. It also featured accessories and a box of chocolate.

"What the everliving fuck." was the only thing that came out of Elizabeth's mouth after she'd opened the box.

"Put them on, I will be waiting for you in exactly one hour and thirty-four minutes." Sherlock ordered, and disappeared again.

It was only after putting everything on, when Elizabeth found a little card in the box. It was written in french, and said this:

_Dear madam, as rude and incompetent in fashion as your husband is, I've helped him to pick up the look that will hopefully look fantastic on you._

_And I sincerely hope he will not ruin your marriage with the date he's organized for you, because according to the amount of questions he asked me today, he seems to know nothing of romance._

_Audrey._

Elizabeth giggled at the letter and put it into her bag. So now she knew where Sherlock had gotten the idea of putting chocolate in the box. Speaking of the chocolate, half of the box was already emptied by Elizabeth, who just happened to be a big fan of milk chocolate.

She then glanced at the clock, which said that she only had six minutes until Sherlock came back. She thought for a moment and then got a piece of paper and wrote a small note to John on it. She placed the note on the coffee table and sat on the couch, waiting for Sherlock to return.

* * *

"She won't house me. I know it, father." James said,pacing around the room, hands crossed behind his back.

"She might not house you, but her house will most definetely be empty for weeks, if not more." George smirked, tossing James the keys.

James' face lit up, as he catched the keys mid-air, and a wide smile was on his face.

"Can I borrow one of your cars, paps?" He asked, getting his suitcases and pulling them to the hallway.

"Take the ferrari, I know you like that one." George said, getting the keys from his office.

"Thanks, well, I guess I will be off radar for two weeks and then we'll see what happens." Jim put the house keys in his pocket and left, leaving Daniel and George by themselves.

"Wonder how many murders will he commit in these two weeks." Daniel said, looking at James through the window.

"I bet it will be more than last time." George replied, joining Daniel under the window.

"More than twenty? Ha, i doubt it. It took him more than two weeks to kill all of them."

"I bet five hundred he will." George took out his wallet and counted the money.

"Well, then, I bet five hundred he won't." Daniel smiled and pulled out the money he'd taken that very day from a young man who'd annoyed him a bit too much. Guess the Moriarty family was all the same after all.

* * *

**Do i smell some romance in the air? YES! You will have to wait for the kissing and everything for a couple of more chapters, though, but i promise, it will come! **


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